


Forgive me Father

by HumblePorridgeBowl



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Alcohol as a Coping Mechanism, F/M, How can you tell?, Inspired by Fleabag (TV), Very very vague suggestion of sexual assault, Yes I was raised in a religious household, gross kissing, no proofreading we die like warriors, very angsty
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-09
Updated: 2021-02-09
Packaged: 2021-03-14 18:28:26
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,226
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29300418
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HumblePorridgeBowl/pseuds/HumblePorridgeBowl
Summary: Rey is an atheist. Ren is a priest. Wrote for a kissing fic exchange that I saw on twitter and then never signed up for because AnXieTy.
Relationships: Rey/Ben Solo | Kylo Ren
Comments: 1
Kudos: 7





	Forgive me Father

Rey was an orphan who’d led a shitty life, with shitty foster parent, and equally shitty future prospects. Also she loved a good wank sesh and according to the rather severe looking nun from the Catholic school her third foster home sent her to, “That was a normal method of release for young men, but when women do that sort of thing, Jesus cries.” Rey tells Father Ren all this over drinks in the rectory after Sunday Mass. 

“And that’s why I simply cannot be a believer.” She said, taking a long sip of strawberry and cream bailey’s (“It was a gift.” is all Ren can sniff when she teases him). “She had a moustache anyway so who gives a shit?”

“Well, Uncle Luke was the most Jewish, Jew Rabbi under God’s sun so that hardly makes me the ultimate priest.” He laughs and obviously his hair is beautiful because when is it not? Fucking hot priest. Why did divine intervention have to be so sexually appealing and yet so unavailable?

They really do make a pair. 

Her, the most non-believing, atheist to ever atheist and him, an ethnically Jewish, hot man who was nearly blind in his devotion to Jesus. Having drinks together after mass on a Sunday, slumped in second hand arm-chairs. His mis-matched socks are propped next to her ass aa she staunchly refuses to think about any potential foot fetishes. His ever cluttered desk holds the wonderful elixir that was strawberry and cream baileys. 

“You nearly got me believing today.” She lies. “I liked that whole, love your neighbour as you unto love yourself, and I shook hands with a really cute guy during the peace be with you bit.” She told the truth about that bit.

He slumps lower in his seat, drinking so deep and long that when he comes back up for air he has a pastel pink moustache. Much prettier than Sister Gregory’s (Yes the nun that told her off for wanking was called Greg. Greg had seemingly believed choosing a man’s name would help her get one foot through the pearly gates early.) 

“I don’t know anymore Rey. I was talking with Snoke-”

At this Rey groans.

Father Ran shoves her with his foot. His sock has a hole in the big toe. Holy sock. Ha. “Hush you. I was talking with Snoke and he seems to think that I would be more effective at a smaller parish.”

Rey takes another hefty drink, “Yeah, well, I think we all know that Snoke has some pretty fucked thoughts.”

“Rey.” Ren snaps, slamming down his drink. “Those claims were proven to be completely unfounded.”

She feels sulky at this. Maybe she’s too drunk. His hair is looking especially good today. “Australia was unfounded until the 1700s. Doesn’t mean it wasn’t there.”

Ren snorts at this. “All the same Snoke only wants what’s best for me.”

It’s Rey’s turn to snort now, “Sure. And the strawberry and cream baileys was a gift.”

If possible Ren sinks even lower in his chair. There’s some stuffing spilling out of the left arm rest. “Change the subject Rabies.” She cringes at his forced nickname. She knows he only does it to highlight the age gap. Or maybe to rub in that she’s a feral orphan. “What did you pray about today Rey?”

Rey takes a moment to pour another drink and her brain scrambling to say literally anything other than you and your massive fingers, father.

Ren smiles smugly now, “Was it me Rey? Did you pray for me and my immoral soul?”

She giggles “I think it’s immortal dude.”

He wiggles his eyebrows at this, his pink moustache wiggling with it. “Was it me Rey? Really, Pray for me. I could do with the extra help.” 

“I was thinking about the cute guy I shook hands with at the peace be with you bit. He had really big fingers.”

His eyes flash at this and if he was anyone else, anyone else who could, Rey would have sworn he was jealous. 

“Pray for me next time Rey.” 

He says and it’s all a bit too intense and desperate so her laugh is more forced when she says “Won’t do you much good. I’ve not got a private line to the big guy like you do, Father.” and the word. Father. It feels insanely dirty on her tongue. She tries to wash it away with the taste of strawberries and cream. It hurts a little too hard when you’re so alone that even the imaginary sky dad doesn’t give a fuck about you. 

Ren seems to sense the sudden melancholy mood-shift and bounds over to his closet, running away from the conversation. They do this. They joke and it gets too real and then one of them runs away. He pulls a black and red priest robe out of the closet with a flourish.   
“Pretty sexy huh?” He says with a pout and Rey wants to bite down on his bottom lip. “Sometimes I worry that the only reason I got into the whole Jesus thing was because I thought the outfits looked cool.” He grins to himself at that, “Told you I was hardly the ultimate priest.”

He still has that ridiculous pink strip dancing on his top lip and it really is distracting and she giggles in the way that only a drunk person can.

She puts down her drink and slithers off the chair like the snake going to seduce Eve or Britney Spears or whoever did the snake bit. She feels incredibly terrible but also the best she’s felt in a long time. 

She’s in his space now and Ren really does have the nicest hair and the thickest fingers.  
Ren blinks down at her. “You think I have nice hair?” He asks.

She just shrugs and rubs past him, reaching out to rub the red brick brac of the sleeve between her thumb and forefinger. “Would it be sacrilegious to say that I think you’d look really fucking hot in this?”

Ren swallows deeply. “We shouldn’t. We really shouldn’t be doing this.” He’s whispering now. “How did we get like this Rey? Why are you always here with me?”

Rey isn’t sure when she started crying but she is. “I’m alone Ben.” And she is. There’s Poe and Finn, and there’s Rose and Paige, and then there’s just her. Rey.

He scoops up her fingers and presses them to his pink lips, “You’re not alone.” He whispers against them frantically. His breath is hot and sticky sweet against her thumb pad. “You’re not alone Rey. You’re not alone. I feel it too.”

Her thumb pushes into his plush upper lip. “You have Baileys right here.” She says and they kiss.

It’s a disgusting affair really. Gnashing teeth and the wet, strawberry sweet slide of tongue against tongue. But they’re disgusting together and drunk together and she’s an orphan atheist and he’s an insanely hot priest, albeit a bad one so surely that means something? Right? Right? She pulls on his gorgeous hair and he moans hungrily.  
When she pulls back to breath, he chases her lips with his for half a moment before he seemingly comes to himself, horrified. He let’s out a choked laugh that could have been a sob.

“Pray for me Rey. Pray for me.”

**Author's Note:**

> Potential TW: Very, very vague suggestion of Snoke abusing his power in a sexual way and Kylo having knowledge of it but not taking action.


End file.
